


Through a Blizzard

by potter_queen



Series: Gallavich One Shots [5]
Category: Shameless (US), gallavich - Fandom
Genre: Domestic Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher Loves Mickey Milkovich, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mickey Milkovich Loves Ian Gallagher, Mickey realising he wants to MARRY Ian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:47:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21795565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potter_queen/pseuds/potter_queen
Summary: Things were great. Better than great. Mickey had never thought he could be so happy. He thought Ian felt the same. It was only when they were invited to one of Ian’s colleague’s weddings that Mickey started to suspect that Ian was not quite as satisfied as he had thought.(Basically Mickey deciding to propose to Ian after they attend a wedding together. Cuteness and domesticity)
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: Gallavich One Shots [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1634716
Comments: 14
Kudos: 185





	1. Chapter 1

All his life, Mickey Milkovich had never understood the hype around marriage. As a child, watching his parent’s crappy marriage get worse and worse until it’s inevitable, brutal end, Mickey had decided marriage was something he wanted no part of.

He had ended up getting married, of course, because when Terry Milkovich said ‘jump’, you jumped. Or at least Mickey did, back then.

Being married had never really bothered him; in fact he’d never even really thought much about it at all. It didn’t affect his life. He was still gay. He was still a piece of shit low life from the Southside. He was still in love with Ian Gallagher, even though he hadn’t admitted that to himself at the time.

He had never understood why him getting hitched had bothered Ian so much. To Mickey, all it was was a piece of paper. He couldn’t understand why Ian didn’t see it the same way.

But as he got older, and a bit less fucked up from his childhood, and a little more sensitive to other people’s feelings, he had started to understand why it had upset Ian so much. The thought of Ian marrying some chick now, regardless of how he felt towards her, made his stomach churn.

His divorce had been a friendly affair. It turned out that getting a divorce wasn’t nearly as complicated as people made it out to be; at least not for him and Svet. It had only come up when Svetlana’s then-boyfriend had proposed to her, and she told him she had a few things to clear up before she could marry him.

There was no custody battles. The two of them had had that settled from years of routine before they ever stepped foot in a courtroom. They had happily signed the papers, took a few smiling photos with their lawyer before going to lunch in Denny’s. It had been a great day, actually, and far more enjoyable than their wedding.

Ian had been very happy with the whole thing, even though he never said as much. Mickey could tell that for whatever reason, Ian felt some sort of closure about the whole thing. In Mickey’s eyes, he had never really been married, but if the divorce made Ian smile to himself and whistle while he cooked breakfast in the mornings, then Mickey wasn’t complaining.

After that, the idea of marriage just slipped from his head again. It was never something he thought about, and Ian never brought it up; he knew Mickey’s feelings about marriage.

After a while, Mickey had just presumed that Ian had decided that marriage was no big deal after all. 

They were happy, in their run down, tiny apartment that they loved, with the hamster they hid from their landlord any time he came around. Mickey loved his job, Ian loved his, they loved each other, and they were happy.

Things were great. Better than great. Mickey had never thought he could be so happy. He thought Ian felt the same. It was only when they were invited to one of Ian’s colleague’s weddings that Mickey started to suspect that Ian was not quite as satisfied as he had thought.

The whole thing started when Ian came home from work one day all excited, smiling that big smile of his and looking like a goddamn happy puppy.

Mickey stood from where he was reading the paper at the table to kiss his boyfriend. As usual, Ian’s smile was infectious, and Mickey was grinning at him like an idiot while Ian tugged off his coat and kicked off his shoes.

“What’s gotten into you, Red?”

“Janey’s getting married!”

“Janey…?” Mickey raised his eyebrows, trying to match a face to the name. He was terrible at remembering names, and Ian seemed to make a new friend every week; it was impossible to keep up.

“Janey, Janey from work, Janey! Brown hair, remember you met her at that party a while back? Janey?”

“Ah, Janey.” Mickey smacks his forehead like he’s remembered. “Of course.”

“It was so romantic, Mick!” Ian’s bouncing around the kitchen to pull a beer from the fridge, still grinning like a lunatic. “Her boyfriend proposed right in front of us all, when he came to pick her up from work, we were all crying and hugging and everything afterwards, and she was so excited; couldn’t stop smiling at each other-”

Mickey sits back down to his cup of tea, (because he’s the type of guy who drinks tea now) and lets Ian babble on excitedly. He nods along and makes little noises when Ian pauses for breath to show he’s still listening, but really he’s just watching the way Ian’s eyes are lit up and how his hands flail around while he talks.

Ian is so easy to please, and he gets so excited about tiny things, like when there’s a Full House rerun on or when Mickey takes ten extra seconds before dinner to light a candle and pour a couple of glasses of wine. It’s one of the things Mickey loves the most about Ian- his endless enthusiasm for life.

He doesn’t think about Janey getting hitched again until a creamy white envelope falls through the front door one morning along with the usual bills and piles of flyers they never look at. Mickey wants to screw a ‘No Junk Mail’ sign onto the door, but Ian insists that sometimes they pizza vouchers and won’t let him.

“Ian!” Mickey calls immediately; there’s no way anyone is sending him fancy envelopes with curly writing on the front. “You’ve got mail!”

Ian pads into the kitchen wearing a pair of Mickey’s baggy boxers and a pair of ancient socks. He giggles at Mickey’s dumb reference and pulls the envelope out of his hand. His face lights up immediately and he pulls out a frilly, fancy little piece of paper.

“It’s Janey’s wedding! Look Mick, we’re invited!”

“We?” Mickey asks as he eyes up the paper suspiciously.

“Of course, we. You’re invited too, dumby.” 

“I am?” He looks, and Ian is right. Mickey’s name is right there in looping cursive. “Huh.” He’s never seen his name look so fancy.

“It’s in three months time.” Ian heads straight to the NYFD calendar hanging on the fridge to pencil it in. “We’ll have to get suits.”

“Suits?” Mickey echoes faintly. He hasn’t worn a suit since… well, since his own wedding day.

“And a present. We’ll check the list thingy that people make. This is so exciting!”

Exciting isn’t quite the word Mickey would use, but Ian’s got that big dumb grin on his face and he’s still all sleep-tousled and Mickey can’t think of a single excuse to get out of this. So he just sighs and smiles at his boyfriend and goes along with it.

~

Years later, when he thinks about that wedding day, he’s surprised that it took him so long to realise just how important marriage was to Ian. Surely that first day, when Ian came bustling in, all excited about the proposal he had witnessed should have been enough to clue Mickey in. Or ever before that, even, when he cried watching Meghan Markle’s wedding, or how he was always so enthralled by people’s engagement stories.

But Mickey was always a bit slow off the mark when it came to things like this. So it wasn’t until he actually attended Janey Geller’s wedding with his boyfriend that Mickey finally realised that Ian was dying to get married.

Ian was having the time of his life all morning, getting all dressed up and calling his friends to arrange lifts, and spending hours predicting what Janey’s bloody dress was going to look like. 

Mickey tended to avoid big social gatherings like this one. He had never grown out of the slight feeling of unease he felt in big crowds, and he wasn’t the friendliest guy at the best of times- interacting with new people just didn’t come naturally to him. He was more than happy with the circle he had; Ian, Lana and Yev, Mandy and his brothers, the few friends he had at work and Ian’s siblings. He had more than enough people around him, and he was much more comfortable with people he knew well. 

Ian was more social. He loved meeting new people and making friends, and on the rare occasion that he was able to convince Mickey to come out with him, he tended to excitedly show Mickey off to everyone he knew.

It had taken Mickey a long time to get used to Ian bashfully holding his hand and proudly introducing Mickey as his boyfriend to his many friends. He still felt slightly uncomfortable about the whole thing, but he understood now that this was just one of the ways that Ian expressed his love. Besides, the reactions were always positive. There were always knowing nods and exclaims of ‘ah! This is Mickey!’ He’d never admit it, but Mickey loved hearing that Ian talked about him so much to his friends.

By the time they took their seats in the church pew that day, Mickey was relieved for the respite of the ceremony from all the socialising. He sat down with a heavy sigh and half wished that he could drink for this part. Ian had his arm looped through Mickey’s and he was pulling a couple of tissues out of his pocket. Mickey raised an eyebrow and nodded at them.

“I always cry at weddings.” Ian admitted with a grin.

Mickey would always remember the exact moment he decided he was going to ask Ian Gallagher to marry him.

Janey and her new hubby were standing on the alter, holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes. Mickey was suffering through some of the most sappy vows he had ever heard.

“Janey. I remember the moment I knew I wanted to marry you. It was last winter when it snowed so hard and you got trapped in your friends apartment. I walked three miles in the snow and climbed the fire escape of the building to be with you. I remember realising that I would have walked all night in the snow just to see you and make sure you were okay. I would walk across the earth for you, Janey. I promise I always will.”

Mickey had to suppress the derisive snort that threatened to surface at that one. He turned, grinning cynically, towards Ian so that they could giggle together at the sappiness of it all, but when he turned, his grin faded and his heart skipped a beat.

Ian was practically at the edge of his seat, staring up at the couple with wide tearful eyes. His tissue was wet and crumbled in his hands. His big green eyes were shining and Mickey suddenly felt the realisation like being hit by a bus. He wants this.

He wants all of this. Marriage. A wedding with guests and cake and a terrible band and dancing. He wants the stupid piece of paper. He wants to marry Mickey, but he’s never brought it up because he thought Mickey didn’t want it.

Suddenly the sappy vows didn’t seem all that ridiculous. Because Mickey was just as whipped as Mr Janey to be. He would walk through a damn blizzard all night just to see Ian smile. 

And he was going to ask Ian Gallagher to marry him.


	2. Chapter 2

Once he had decided to propose to Ian, Mickey began planning with a single-minded focus he tended to adopt when he was determined to do anything.

The first step was to find a ring. Mickey had presumed that this would be the easiest part, but after several weeks and visiting what felt like hundreds of jewellers, Mickey had still not found the perfect ring.

The problem was that Ian never wore jewellery. He’d worn a few dog tags back when he was in the ROTC and obsessed with the army. Since then? Nada.

Mickey had no idea what kind of ring Ian might like, and the options were seemingly endless. Everytime Mickey ventured into a shop, he’d stare stupidly at the hundreds of rings in front of him until someone asked if he needed help. He would desperately try to explain the situation and look at another pile of rings before leaving, disappointed and overwhelmed.

There was no way he was buying Ian a bloody diamond. For one thing, Ian would hate something so flashy, and for another, Ian was constantly misplacing everything he owned- no way Mickey was shelling out a year’s rent on a diamond Ian was likely to lose.

That led him down the slightly more alternative route of ‘men’s’ engagement rings. And well… they were all fucking ugly. Big heavy silver bands that Mickey couldn’t picture at all on Ian’s slender, freckly fingers.

He’d nearly given up on the idea of getting a ring. He was resigning himself to proposing without one- on his knees with his hands hanging like a total schmuck. It was then, in the funny way that the Universe works, that he walked past Síoraíocht. 

He was on his way home from a house call to a couple with a new baby who wanted a house alarm installed. It had been a straightforward job. He’d finished early with cash in hand and decided to walk the long way home so he could walk through a park near their apartment. He was just walking along, enjoying the reddening leaves, when something made him stop as he passed a store front.

He peered in through the slightly grimy window and saw an array of the most interesting jewellery he had ever seen. Necklaces, earrings and brooches or fascinating knots and intricate, tiny trees. And rings. Rings with little hearts and tiny silver hands. 

He stared for what could have been several minutes, enchanted by the weaving patterns. He stepped back to look at the name of the shop. 

_ Síoraíocht Celtic Jewellers. _

Celtic. That rang a bell. Sure enough, when he tilted his head back a little more he spotted the Irish flag hanging above the window, waving proudly in the soft wind.

Mickey’s heart sped up. Ian was Irish. Kind of. As Irish as Mickey was Ukrainian, anyway. And those rings- they had seemed to pull him in.

A tinkling bell rang when Mickey stepped into the shop. It was a little darker inside, and the shop was small, but it was warm and packed full of overflowing shelves of the beautiful jewellery. The door barely had time to close fully behind him before an old lady practically appeared beside him, making him jump and swear.

“Sorry.” He jumped to apologise. To his surprise, she just laughed a raspy laugh.

“Ye feckin’ eijit. Did ye not see the sign? We’re closed.”

“Shit.” Mickey had not seen it. “Sorry. I’ll go.”

He made to leave but a surprisingly strong hand grabbed at his wrist. He looked down, startled, into bright green eyes, sparkling with mischief.

“Ah, sure, you’re now,  _ gasúr. _ You might as well stay and tell me what you’re looking for.”

“Eh-” Mickey glanced between her lined face and the wizened old hand that was still vice-like on his wrist. “The rings- in the window. They’re beautiful.”

“Ay.” When she smiled, her eyes twinkled again. “The Claddagh rings.”

“The Clad- what?”

“Claddagh. Ah sure, sit down and we’ll have a cup of tea. I’ll tell you the story.”

Still a little bewildered, Mickey let himself be maneuvered round the shop and forced into a low, wooden chair. He blinked and the woman was gone, and a moment later he heard a kettle start to rumble somewhere. He didn’t dare move.

After a couple of minutes, the woman appeared again, carrying two mugs. “Milk and no sugar.” She thrust it at him. “The only way to drink it.”

Mickey nodded weakly as the old woman sat down in another chair. They seemed to just appear out of nowhere.

“Now,  _ a bhuachaillín _ . Tell me. Do you have someone to give a ring to? It’s bad luck to buy one for yourself.”

“Ehm. Yeah. My boyfriend. Ian. I want to marry him.”

A slow smile stretched across the old woman’s face and she nodded. “You love him a lot.”

“Yeah.” Mickey coughed, a little embarrassed. “I do.”

The woman got up, and a moment later appeared with a silver ring like Mickey had seen in the window. The band was decorated with knots, and on the front were two tiny hands, holding a heart, upon which sat a crown. She handed it to Mickey.

“The first Claddagh ring was made many years ago. A young blacksmith was stolen from his hometown of Claddagh and sold to the Medditeranean. He was gone for many a year. His family thought him dead. His sweetheart was sick with grief. He was forced to work till his hands bled and his bones broke. 

But over the years of his captivity, the blacksmith managed to steal scraps of metal from his master. He used them to fashion a ring.

The hands,” She pointed to the tiny silver hands, “stood for friendship. The heart,” her crooked finger touched the heart. “For everlasting love. And the crown,” she touched the crown gently. “For true loyalty.

After many years, when the man was too old to work well, he was granted his freedom. He returned to Ireland with the ring he had made. He found his sweetheart, waiting for him at the place where they had been separated. She had never given up hope.”

Mickey let out a deep breath. This was it. This the ring. It was perfect. It meant something.

“Now,” the woman went on. “You have to know how to wear it. On the right hand, with the heart turned outwards, if he’s single. Turned inwards if he’s being courted. Left hand, turned outwards,” she winked at Mickey, “if he’s engaged. And on the day you marry, you turn the ring around so the heart faces towards his heart.”

“When you give him this ring,” she went on gently, “you say, ‘with these hands, I give you my heart, and I crown it with my love.’”

Mickey buys the ring.

~

As tempted as Mickey is to do this whole proposal thing in the privacy of their own home, in his boxers after a couple of beers, he knows that that is probably not what Ian has dreamed of. And, well, if he’s going to do this then he might as well go the whole hog.

There’s the whole restaurant option, which seems to be fairly typical and romantic, but the thought of getting down on one knee in front of a roomful of strangers makes Mickey break out in a cold sweat. Not happening.

He finds himself watching proposal videos on youtube on his lunch breaks. Everything he watches seems so extravagant; dance numbers and slide shows and elaborate set ups that Mickey knows he does not have the capacity to pull off.

He remembers Ian getting all excited about Janey’s proposal. Is that what he wants? For Mickey to pick him from work in front of all his coworkers? Maybe it is, but it’s not what he’s getting- the thought makes Mickey sweat almost as much as the restaurant idea.

He knows how Ian feels about Mickey showing Ian affection in public. To this day, he still gets surprised and blushes when Mickey takes his hand in public. When Mickey kisses him around his family, Ian stares at him with big, wide eyes as if the sun is shining out of Mickey’s arse.

Proposing in public would be the biggest reassurance that Mickey could give him that he is  _ proud _ to be with Ian, and not afraid to let anyone know it. It has to be in public. He reckons he could pull something half decent off. But he probably needs a bit of help.

The first person Mickey tells is Fiona.

It’s not that he’s ever been particularly close to Fiona, but they get each other in a strange way- both of them have had to work hard on themselves to be happy. Plus, she’s always looked out for Ian and she knows he does too.

He calls round one day that he knows she has off. She’s at home, running around as usual and doing odd jobs. Mickey grabs a beer from the fridge and tries not to down the whole thing at once.

“Fiona.” He blurts out before she can say much more than a hello. “Can I talk to you?”

Her face crumbles completely before his eyes and he hurries to reassure her, “Ian’s fine.”

She puts a hand over her heart and sits down. “Fuck. I thought-”

“I know. I’m sorry. He’s great, though. Loving work. Taking his meds. Going to therapy. He’s perfect.”

“Thank fuck for that. So, what’s up?”

He takes a deep breath, then a healthy gulp of beer for a bit of dutch courage. “I’m going to propose. To Ian.”

Her mind visibly whirs as she processes his words. Then her face just lights up. He can’t help but grin back. He loves Fiona’s smile, it’s full of hope.

“Oh my God! Are you serious!”

He shrugs. “Got a ring and everything.”

“Oh my God!” She’s on her feet and pulling him into a hug into an instant, laughing into his neck, and when she pulls back there’s tears in her eyes. “Go on, let’s see it then.”

Mickey grins and pulls it from his pocket. He tells her the story, and when he’s finished she’s crying all over again.

“You need my help, don’t you?” She says eventually, when they’ve calmed down a bit.

“Yes please.” He admits. He feels strangely like he’s gotten her blessing, and he can’t help but smile at her again. He thinks she understands, because she reaches out and squeezes his hand.

“Let’s knock his fucking socks off.” They laugh again and the moment is over, and they begin to plan.

~

The day of the party comes around frighteningly quickly. That morning, Mickey is a bundle of nerves, bumping into the edges of the counters and nearly knocking over his coffee cup. Ian laughs and teases him, kissing the back of his head and telling him he’s adorable when he’s half asleep. Mickey’s heart sings and beats extra hard in his chest, knowing that every morning for the rest of his life will be filled with soft kisses and laughter and love.

He’ll be late to the party later, Mickey reminds Ian as he heads out the door, looking as handsome as usual in his uniform. Ian pouts and steps back inside to wrap his arms around Mickey and kiss him till he feels dizzy. He pulls away and nuzzles Mickey’s neck for a moment.

“Okay. I can’t wait to see you then.” He smiles at Mickey before kissing him one last time, sweetly, on the lips. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Mickey calls, leaning against the door. “Have fun saving people!”

Ian raises his hand like superman and jogs the last few steps to the stairs. He turns back at the last moment to catch a glance of Mickey laughing at him before he heads off for the day.

Mickey watches him until he’s long gone, thinking of the little black box in his coat pocket and smiling.

~

Ian runs home after work to quickly change into his party clothes. Fiona had made a big fuss about getting some sort of seasonal bonus at work, and insisted on throwing a party for it. Ian sees right through her. She just wants an excuse to get everyone together for drinks and dancing. Say what you like about the Gallaghers, but one thing’s for sure; they love a good party.

The party’s already in full swing when he arrives. He grins as he heads in the door, they’ve gotten going early today. He spots Fiona and rushes over to give her a hug.

“Wow, Fi! Place looks great!” He remarks as he looks around.

“You like it?” He nods earnestly. The house is cleaner that he’s ever seen it and there’s golden fairy lights hanging from the ceiling.

As he takes it in he spots a very familiar head standing near the kitchen. “Lip!”

He crosses the room in a few steps and pulls Lip into hug. “I haven’t seen you in forever! What are you doing here?”

“Couldn’t miss the special day, could I now? Big bonus.” He wiggles his eyebrows and Ian laughs along with him.

Everyone’s managed to show up, he notices. Debbie and Carl and Liam and Kev and Vee. Even Svetlana and Yev are here, which is a bit strange since Fiona is the host, but a lovely surprise nevertheless. It’s rare that they all really get together these days; they’re all so busy with their separate lives. It’s so nice to see all his family together at once. He makes his way around the room, smiling and hugging and bopping along to the music. He can’t wait for Mickey to arrive, then all his family will truly be there.

He has to wait an hour or so for that. He’s standing in the centre of the room with Lip when he hears Mickey’s voice behind him.

“Hey.”

Ian grins and whips around. Mickey is standing a few feet away, and Ian’s heart skips a beat. He looks  _ gorgeous. _ Mickey doesn’t dress up often, but when he does, it’s a sight to behold. His hair is neatly combed back and he’s wearing his good jeans and a nice shirt, a dark blue one that Ian loves.

“Hey.” Ian quickly closes the distance and kisses his boyfriend. When they part, Mickey takes a deep breath and takes a step back, taking Ian’s hands instead of his waist.

“Ian.” Ian realises that everyone has stopped talking, and the music that’s playing is softer than the dance music that was playing a moment ago. He frowns a little.

“What’s going on?”

Mickey flashes him a quick, reassuring smile, but he looks nervous as hell. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Mickey nods. “Yeah. Better than I’ve ever been in my life. You know that, right?”

“Yeah.” Ian smiles, still confused but endeared as always by Mickey expressing his feelings.

“Right. I never thought I could be this happy. You know, when I was growing up. But when I met you… all of a sudden I could see this future. A future with you. It scared the shit out of me.”

Ian smiles sadly at the memory of teenage Mickey, angry and scared and strung so tightly he looked like he was going to snap at any moment. He’s so proud of the man Mickey has become, of how far he has come. He squeezes Mickey’s hands and hopes he knows how strong he is.

“That doesn’t scare me anymore. I’m not scared of loving you. I’m fucking proud of it. How you’ve put up with me after all these years, I don’t know. But I hope to fuck you never stop. Because I know for sure that I’ll be yours till the day I die, Gallagher. Fuck.”

They’re both crying a bit now, and Ian’s not sure what’s triggered this emotional outburst, but he treasures every time Mickey shows him a bit of his soul, so he’s not complaining. Mickey’s pulling away now, and Ian frowns a little in confusion, but then-

Mickey’s pulling something out of his back pocket-

And getting down on one knee.

Ian finally realises what’s happening. His breath catches in his chest and his hands fly to his mouth. Holy shit. Ian’s been daydreaming about this since he was fifteen. But he had never let himself seriously consider it, he knew Mickey had no interest in marriage, yet here he was, one one knee in front of Ian’s entire family.

Ian’s crying and he’s not quite sure why, but he can’t look away from Mickey’s eyes.

“I’ve been in love with you since I was sixteen, Ian. We’ve been through hell and back and somehow we’re still here. No matter what life fucking throws at us, we can get through it. Together. I never fucking thought I’d be doing this, but-”

Mickey slowly opens the little black box, but Ian can’t look away from his face.

“I’d do fucking anything for you, Ian. I’d walk across the world for you. And, I don’t want to just be your boyfriend anymore. I want to be your husband.”

Ian lets out a sob, and he can hear sniffles all around him too. He holds his breath, waiting for the next words. 

“Ian Gallagher. Will you marry me?”

Ian starts to nod, slowly at first then he’s nodding frantically. “Yes. Yes. I love you, Mick.”

Relief floods Mickey’s face and Ian vaguely registers the room erupting into cheers around him. Mickey gently takes his hand and eases the ring from it’s box. “Ian, with these hands, I give you my heart, and I crown it with my love.”

Ian’s not quite sure what that means, but it sounds like a promise, and when he looks at the ring for the first time, Ian thinks he understands.

“It has a story,” Mickey rushes to tell him. “It’s a Celtic thing, it’s for love. And friendship. And loyalty.”

Ian kisses him. “I love it.”

Ian doesn’t get to hear the story till that night, because all of a sudden his family are all around him, crying and hugging him and offering their congratulations. Ian feels like he’s floating.

In bed that night, Ian’s face aches from smiling, but he can’t stop. He hears the story of two people, thousands of years ago, who waited for each other despite the odds. He holds Mickey close and kisses his face and his hands and his lips and promises to never let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, can you tell I'm Irish??
> 
> The Claddagh rings are so beautiful, and they're quite popular here. I've never seen one being used as an engagement ring but a lot of times they're worn as like, promise rings.
> 
> If you want to see what I had in mind, just google 'men's Claddagh rings' and pick one you like.
> 
> Quick wee Irish lesson for you;   
> 'Síoraíocht' means Eternity. Just a random word I picked for the name of the shop.  
> 'Eijit' is not an Irish language word, but I'm pretty sure it's only used in Ireland? (correct me if I'm wrong!) it means idiot, basically, but it's a term of endearment.  
> 'gasúr' means boy.  
> 'a bhuachaillín' means 'dear little boy.' A is dear, buachaill mean boy and ín is the diminutive.
> 
> Mickey is an electrician, here in my head canon, if you were wondering what he's doing fitting an alarm.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this wee proposal fic, I had fun writing it!
> 
> Nollaig shona daoibh go léir!   
> (Happy Christmas to you all ;) )


End file.
